Afternoon Revelations
by dinenwen
Summary: Six Slytherins and four Gryffindors pass a lazy June afternoon. Marauder Era. RemusxSirius, JamesxLily, LilyxBellatrix, LuciusxNarcissa.


**Lily Evans:**  
Sometimes, I watch her from afar. Today she's across a courtyard, though such details matter little. I know only that she's there. She flips her long dark hair back, a sardonic smile flitting across her face. I know that she is dangerous. Bellatrix has that air about her, cruel and yet somehow captivating. She is fire and she is ice and somehow I can't take my eyes off of her. Maybe it's that fabled fascination good girls seem to have with bad women. This is no careful potion to be measured and calculated, each ingredient with an order and a place, a certain predictability of result. There's nothing safe about Bellatrix.

I catch myself wanting to chase the mockery out of the air and seal her mouth with mine. Quick blink and a shadow recoil back to reality. Where did that come from?

She laughs and turns her dark eyes on Severus Snape. He sits apart from the group, as if he can't quite decide whether to participate in their banter. Bellatrix says something loud and cutting and suddenly I can feel their eyes on me. I glance away quickly and bury my head in my book. Did she catch me staring? What is wrong with me? Girls don't think about other girls this way. This is a strange affliction and for once I wish that James were here to do that ridiculous trick with his hair; anything to distract me.

And again, my thoughts flit back to long dark hair mingling with red, delicious frightening imagery. Forgetting about her is easier said than done.

**Severus Snape:**  
It's all Bella's fault really. She dances away from Rodolphus, twisting around just in time to avoid a kiss. "She's watching you again!" she hisses and gestures off to the right. I know very well what she means, but of course I drawl "Who?" as if the answer is of little actual import. "That Evans girl" Bella replies, a bit disgusted. "Are you really such a sniveling idiot that you can't tell at least that? Please don't prove my cousin right, it would so delight him."

With Bella people never truly have names. It's always "that girl" or "my cousin" or "some boy". I turn to glance at Lily, and for a split second I can feel her eyes on us and my heart dares to hope. She glances down, tendrils of fiery hair obscuring her face and appears to be concentrating on a book. She's probably thinking about stupid bloody Potter with his stupid bloody friends and his equally stupid, equally bloody hair. Goddesses like her don't watch boys like me, no matter how much we yearn for it, no matter how _long_ we've yearned.

Bella turns away, her attention captured elsewhere and I find myself tearing at a bit of spare parchment, ripping it in long shreds with unnaturally steady hands. It does a little to ease the constriction in my chest, though not as much as I'd hope. Caught between taunting laughing Bellatrix here and disdainful distant Lily Evans there, asphyxiation is a tantalizing dancing desire.

**Regulus:**  
It's a lazy summer afternoon and this is all so ridiculous. I sit with them and I laugh at the right places, smile tolerantly, and can't help but detest them all.

Snape mopes. He hides it well enough, but he's fallen for Bellatrix's bait and visions of rouge dance in his head. I don't know why Bellatrix encourages him in this, but she seems to take some strange joy in manipulation and Snape is the perfect puppet. Bellatrix puts on a fierce face but secretly she's as pathetic as the rest. She throws herself first at Lucius Malfoy and then at Rodolphus, leading first one, than the other on and then pulling away entirely, leaving both at the point of despondency.

I secretly think that Lily Evans, alone on a bench tucked into a little alcove, has the proper idea. She is suddenly so immersed in her book and I can't help but admire her a little bit. Compared to these fools I call friends, she seems almost decent. I check myself suddenly; I am here and this is my place and if I secretly hate them all it hardly matters.

I watch as James Potter and Remus Lupin enter the courtyard and I sneer a little bit muttering about "blood traitors!" just loud enough for Malfoy to hear. He turns and gives me a commiserating look and it occurs to me that this should be one of those moments when alliances are formed.

I play the part. Mother would be proud.

**Bellatrix Black:**  
Oh, what I would love to do to Lily Evans.

It's a passing fancy really, and not one to be much concerned with, but on a lazy spring afternoon I turn it over in my head. It's something different to contemplate when Lucius snakes out an arm and pulls me onto his lap.

I acquiesce just enough to merit a glare from Narcissa. My sister looks up and tosses her hair as if to remind me that she and Lucius are practically a match and I'd best watch myself. "Is there something wrong, Cissy?" I ask, voice dripping with pseudo-concern. It's all a game; her jealousy is what I want. I suppose it's our little pureblood delusion; we all play at coupling as if it's not ultimately going to be decided for us. Flirtation is a small rebellion in its own right.

Oh, it's not as if we all participate equally. Severus is sulking again, his head buried in that horrible tattered textbook of his. It's obvious enough that he's pining after Lily. I can see the flash in his eyes when I mention her. He's all too easy to goad and I grow bored.

My thoughts stray to pulling red hair, nails grasping white hips, and I watch Remus Lupin and James Potter approach Lily. James puts his arm around her and she shrugs it off with a jerk. I think she's playing her own little game. One day she'll forget to shrug that arm off, and no one will really be surprised.

A small yelp draws me back to Slytherins and the present. Rodolphus has fallen asleep, his head lulling against Narcissa's shoulder, drool dripping on her fine blonde hair. She whines indistinctly until Lucius pulls out his wand and mutters something I don't quite catch.

It looks like Rodolphus won't be moving for a good long time.

**Remus Lupin:**  
I have to give James credit. If nothing else, he's persistent. No matter how many times Lily resists his advances, he tries again.

I would have given up long ago, content to dream from afar. Not that longing for someone all too close yet all too unreachable isn't its own tantalizing sort of hell. I know it is. But some things are simply impossible and it's best not to let my thoughts re-trace familiar yet dangerous paths.

I glance around. A cloud of noxious smoke rises from the general proximity of a group of Slytherins. One appears to be sprawled thrashing on the ground bound by some sort of invisible straightjacket. What sort of strange curse is this?

A tall, striking girl with a cruel laugh is bending over the boy on the ground. She pokes him with her wand, though why I cannot fathom. I recall that she is Sirius' cousin. In many ways they are too alike for comfort. But of course -he- would never admit it.

Like him, she has an air of arrogant grace. Like him, there's something about her, a little guarded, a little dangerous, a little desperate. But watching her across the courtyard it strikes me that she lacks his charm, his finesse, but most of all the raw sensitivity underneath all the bravado, the Sirius-ness of him.

I catch myself sighing wistfully and immediately check myself. James glances sharply at me and pulls me away from Lily "What's wrong Moony?" he asks. I mutter something about the full moon and he seems satisfied, shooting me a certain meaningful glance.

As if I could explain how I really feel when I hardly understand it myself. There are some tasks best not attempted.

**Narcissa Black:**  
My hair looks pretty in the sunlight. It's the loveliest shade of white blonde and I can't help being pleased with the swish of it as I toss my head or the way it falls across my shoulders when I lean forward to watch Bellatrix toy with Rodolphus.

Secretly I think that it is much nicer than Lily Evans'. No amount of talk about her "perfect fiery locks" will convince me that the ends don't look a little split and the colour isn't a tad too coppery for her complexion. It's probably swarming with lice too, given the types she associates with. Remus Lupin looks bedraggled and gray around the edges and heaven knows, James Potter is in need of a haircut. Those Gryffindors take no pride in their appearances. It's kind of a shame too because James Potter has quite a fine a…

What the …? Is that Sirius? I'm almost afraid to ask. He looks like he's jumped in the lake and come out of some sort of battle with the giant squid. Either that or he's been rolling in muck. Maybe he thinks that long tangled wet hair plastered to his face and what appears to be gilly-weed around his neck is attractive. I have news for him. He's wrong.

But then, that's their lot for you; they never did have any taste.

**Lucius Malfoy:**  
Narcissa is a nice enough girl, if a bit vapid. She talks too much about too little, overreacts to every situation, and there's absolutely nothing interesting about her. It certainly isn't "love", but she's beautiful and I could make far worse matches.

She nudges me and points a pale manicured finger at Sirius Black. It's certainly a painful sight. But then, Sirius himself is a painful sight these days. He never did know what was good for him. Regulus it seems, at least has some pureblood dignity about him. I glance at him and note how tense he is, suddenly uncomfortable with the presence of his brother. He's all aversion, fine lines and a hint of a sneer. They take such lengths to avoid each other and I can't help but approve. It's a shame Sirius has to be so unbearably Gryffindor.

His mother, after all, is nice enough.

**James Potter:**  
Sirius Black announces that he was for a brief fleeting instant a swamp god, but he has been cruelly usurped and forced to wander the land in search of helpless maidens in need of rescue. He attempts to demonstrate this last point by picking Remus up. Moony however is too quick for him and hides behind me.

I'm not sure whether to laugh or play along "Err, I'm sorry about the mutiny situation," I manage. It must be the right response, because he looks pleased and plops down on the bench with a messy squelch. I suspect that his bedraggled condition has less to do with ruling the marshlands, and more to do with smoking too much gillyweed, but really, it matters little.

Lily inches away, looking perturbed. Were this not fairly standard practice, I'd be a bit concerned. But someday she'll come around to me, I hope.

Severus Snape is watches her again with hunger in his eyes. The slimy git is bad enough without doing anything, but when he looks at Lily like this it's unbearable. I growl somewhere in my throat and Sirius follows my gaze. "Easy now Prongs." he mutters. "They're not worth it."

I contain myself, albeit barely and make a grand show of leaning over to Lily with an offhand "Whacha readin', Evans? Planning our wedding?" She rolls her eyes, stands up, and stalks away.

What a beautiful, incredible, wonderful, wonderful girl!

**Sirius Black:**  
Sometimes this fascination James has with Lily confuses me. I mean, sure she's beautiful and gorgeous, and altogether an ideal specimen of a girl but she's still _just_ a girl. I don't know; it's just not always something I can understand. Not that I'd ever admit it. I am Sirius Black, and to admit bewilderment would be most out of character.

I hear bawdy laughter and looking around, I spot a group of Slytherins. My brother is with them. Regulus prefers not to acknowledge the family disappointment. Arrogant little bastard! He's doing it even now, standing up with some indistinct comment and striding out of the courtyard, Severus Snape at his heels. Can't even be in the same outdoors with me, can he? Hrmph. Sometimes I wish I had a real family, like James' or even like Remus' parents, loving but hesitant. Anything except this cold disdain I face for being who I am. They love Regulus so much, their perfect little son, the ideal pureblood boy.

What's so bloody wrong with me?

I shake my head violently and my long wet hair sprays James and Remus with water. It's one of those dog-like habits I've somehow picked up from certain night time escapades, and although a bit difficult to explain, I have to admit that it's an amusing trick at parties.

**Rodolphus LeStrange:**  
Narcissa's hand creeps up Lucius' arm in a slow progression of fingernails and affected sensuality. Lying here like this, looking up at them, such details are inherently obvious. Bellatrix is bored; there's less fun with the attention off her. There's no denying that Bella is an attractive girl. If Narcissa is the white gold sun that fills a room, Bellatrix is the darkness that prays on the edges, the evident contrast. And yet the two compliment each other so wonderfully. One almost gets the impression that dark and light are scheming together and there's no stopping these girls.

But maybe I read too much into it and I'm just another boy admiring pleasing figures and cold faces. I can't decide which sister I like more. Should I chase the sun or the shadows? The sun is distracted at the moment. Lucius pulls her to her feet and leads her insistently in the general direction of the forest. She fights just enough to make a show of it, but not enough to really fool any one. I watch them leave, watch the swing of her hips and note his arm around her waste, holding her close. Nicer girls might have been scandalized; Narcissa is above such things. But it hardly matters - Next week it will be me and Narcissa behind the Herbology building and Lucius will be off writing love notes to Pantia Parkinson. There are many ways to form alliances in the wizarding world.

Bellatrix glances down at me lying bound on the ground. With deliberate ease, she steps over me, swishing her cloak across my face "Bye now, Rodolphus" she remarks, nonchalantly, "Try to get some sleep tonight." Is she really going to leave? Yes, yes she is. And she's gone. Lovely. Where's my damn wand? Characteristically out of reach. Bugger it. "Help, help, help"

The day fades and night cloaks Hogwarts, enshrouding the towers in darkness. The moon is bright and full tonight. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howls, answered shortly by another howl. A stag capers on a hill and a rat, fat from kitchen scraps, sniffs my hand.

Thanks a lot, Bellatrix. Thanks a hell of a lot.


End file.
